Sensual
by next
Summary: To know someone fully is to know someone with all of your senses. Brennan's POV, probably OOC. Please R&R!
1. This Is What My Ears Tell Me

**_A/N: I'm gonna try and cover all of the senses. Most likely OOC. Brennan's POV, only short chapters, something I was doing whilst bored...please let me know what you think! Read and review =) _**

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To know someone fully is to know someone with all of your senses.

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Seeley Booth, for the most part, wears his heart on his sleeve. I can hear it in his voice. The human brain is a complex instrument, capable of hearing and processing the various nuances of speech immediately, allowing us to understand the full meaning of the words just spoken and so respond accordingly. Regardless of my brain's ability in certain bone-related areas, I am markedly slower at responding to these nuances effectively.

Seeley Booth is not. I learn from a master, the trade of speech and lies being second nature to him from his pre-Bones days in the FBI. I think that in the interrogation room, a lot of what he says or implies is not what he truly thinks. When he speaks to me, I know there is no such barrier. I feel the immense and raw pain in his voice when he admits facts from his past to me. I feel the love for his child when he speaks of him. I hear the respect he feels when he speaks of me. I feel anger, courage, fear, irony and other countless emotions when he speaks. It is as if each feeling has its own distinctive note, simultaneously threading through his voice when he speaks. I could identify his voice immediately. I can identify his footsteps and his breathing out of a million others. Since being with Booth I have learnt to better identify those speech nuances I was so unsure of.

Yes, Seeley Booth wears his heart on his sleeve. God help me if he tucks his heart into his chest, for I doubt I will be able to hear him as effectively as I do now.

This is what my ears tell me.


	2. This Is What My Eyes Tell Me

He moves with all the grace of a dancer, with the lean body of an athlete. His movements are conservative, but effective. I have studied kinesiology, it's true, and I know, from prolonged study, that Booth has excellent moves. It is hard not to watch him sometimes, in action or at rest he always seems to catch my eye. Booth is a man of action, of movement, of focus and purpose and strength. I can see it all and know that a man like that is a one in a hundred, maybe a thousand.

My one, potentially most reliable input device shows me his beauty as well. His face and body are extremely attractive, as I have told him before. It isn't just about symmetry, although I like to contribute it to that, to stay objective. He has a face that makes any other man look dull in comparison. Although I know, in my mind at least, that humans cannot shine, I know for a fact that Booth shines. Whether it is his heart that is showing through, or just chemical reactions making my brain attribute adverse light conditions with facial beauty, I am not sure, although I incline towards the former. Booth shines through the dark and lights up the path when I may be too blind to see it. I should like to think that I do the same for him on dark days as well.

This is what my eyes tell me.


	3. This Is What My Body Tells Me

My partner is a fit man. I have felt the shape of his arms and buttocks, the tension of his stomach and chest. He is muscular but lean. He is a healthy, fully grown man. I know the beat of his heart when it is running wild, when it is drumming slowly. I have never known it to be stopped. I am sure I would greatly dislike the feeling of his stopped heart.

I know his hands are rough and calloused, but still sensitive and sure. They can inflict great pain or cradle softly. Booth has hands that can encompass mine almost completely, and they are almost always warmer than my own. I have felt the soles of his feet, the bumps and lumps that make him who he is today. I have touched his warm hand with my own in comfort and felt them hold on for life as if he were drowning in the winter air. When my partner touches my back I can distinguish his hand from many others. I know my partner by his touch and texture. I would know it if I were completely numb all over.

My partner also has soft lips. He has soft lips that fit my own, if such a thing were possible.

This is what my body tells me.


	4. This Is What My Nose Tells Me

For those who cannot see, their sense of hearing becomes acute. For those who cannot taste, their sense of smell increases in intensity in the same way. Booth smells like any other man I have encountered, except more intense. Is it just my repeated proximity to him, or more?

Aftershave and coffee fresh in the morning, sometimes leaving a trail that is easy to follow. Gunshot residue and blood in the moments preceding his "death". Sweat and fear when he pulled me from the Gravedigger's car. Laundry detergent when he has had Parker for the weekend. Hotdogs and beer on the Fourth of July. He's an all-American guy. From his cologne to his apartment, all of his differing aromas scream, "Booth!" When he brushes close to me, it is not only my sense of touch that nudges my heart into overdrive. His scent becomes heady and overpowering, so much so that I sometimes cannot concentrate on what he is saying

He smells of starch and soap mostly; clean and homey scents. I cannot abide those whose personal hygiene affects my olfactory senses. Booth's never really has.

Whenever I have been pressed against his chest, a small part of me, in the region of my lower back, relaxes. His smell reminds me of when I return to my apartment after a long holiday. The same part of me relaxes as I walk through my front door and push my suitcase into a corner. I don't know that this part of me is tensed, until it relaxes and releases tension and pain not fully recognised until that wonderful moment. I often imagine what it would feel like if that part was to be relaxed permanently. Booth takes away that small bit of pain with his scent alone. It would be accurate for me to equate being close to Booth to feeling at home, at peace.

This is what my nose tells me.

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**_A/N: I may repost this entirely as I have seen some grammatical errors in earlier chapters and they are bugging me. Please review...hope you like!_**


	5. This Is What My Mouth Tells Me

I had often wondered what he would taste like.

I guess I already knew, of course, with the mistletoe kiss and all the steamboats and things. It can take a while to find someone's true flavour. I had gotten close to fully knowing Sully's. I had definitely known Micheal's. If someone had handcuffed and blindfolded me, I could pick those two out by taste alone.

It annoyed me that I didn't know Booth's personal flavour. It wasn't like I hadn't worked with other men and not known what they were uniquely composed of. Hodgins, for example. Of course, Angela would have known. Angela would be able to pick him out of a crowd of hundreds, of thousands. As lovely as Hodgins was, I was not jealous of not knowing his. He was Angela's. Booth was whose? Rebecca, Cam's? I envied these women that knew him so completely, while my knowledge of him lacked in identifying his flavour.

All I had to go on was the 10 second taste of his lips on mine, the smell of his blood on my hands, the iron of it in the air, tainting the oxygen I breathed. I do not like the taste of his blood.

I imagine he would taste of coffee, with a hint of salt and something indescribable, even for a world-renowned author as myself. My imaginings vary day to day, depending on what has happened between us, how long it has been since I satisfied my biological urges.

Sometimes I wondered if he felt the same way, that the craving for knowing what I tasted like consumed him, until it was all he could think about late at night. The longing to know him with my most descriptive and discerning sense was something that did not change no matter how long it had been since I had last had sex. Wanting to know Booth, to taste him, is not something that is solely linked to my libido.

All the things I have learned from my partner, Seeley Booth, I have learned from observing, hearing, smelling and feeling. I would not have otherwise learned that feelings are so often heard, rather than described. I would not have known that other paths are just as viable as my own, even if they are lit by a different sort of light. I could not have known that there is but one person out there whose touch is so in tune with my own. I definitely would not have recognised that you can identify a person as "home".

I have yet to learn one thing, however. I have yet to learn if there truly is a taste so intoxicating it can be described as "heaven on Earth".

Until I learn this, all my mouth tells me is that everything else that passes through it is akin to cardboard.

That is definitely what my mouth tells me.

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**_A/N: That's all folks. I hope you liked it. It was just a little something that popped into my head and the idea can probably be taken and reworked to a much higher standard by the more talented authors on this site. Please leave reviews, I love them!_**


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